Flames To Dust
by xstormqueenx
Summary: In the last days of war, Pope plans his final revenge, threatening all that Tom holds dear. {Extended one-shot, Season 5, AU}.
1. Black Hole

**Author's Note:** _Flames To Dust_ is part of my Doctor Who/Falling Skies crossover series, the reading order of which is listed on my profile, including one-shots etc. Videos for characters canon and original, can be found on my Youtube channel via the link on my profile.

* * *

 **Black Hole**

 _I want to pull away when the dream dies_  
 _The pain sets in and I don't cry_  
 _Flames to dust_  
 _Why do all good things come to an end_...

Vivien sat there, staring unseeingly at her daughter's photo, the pregnancy test lying on the table beside her, the two blue lines almost taunting her. _"Sometimes... Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever try having another child." Her words hang in the air, the truth hidden in plain sight, her arms wrapped almost defensively around her abdomen. But he just scoffs, blind to everything but the battle. "Not until the world's in a much better place..." His eyes meet hers, angry, impatient. He's made it more than clear to her more than once that they can't try for another baby, not with a war waging, two species scrapping over what was left of the world. They've already lost one child to the fight, and he's not going to lose another..._

She'd deceived him, desperation driving her to deception. With her husband going from her, their daughter divided from them, Vivien had spent her last night with Tom thinking of the future, and when he'd failed to return, she'd stood by her bedroom window, staring up at the moon, praying that she was pregnant, that there was still a reason for her to live. She'd thought of Lexie, of the years they'd lost with her, watching her grow up, taking her first steps, saying her first words. All that time had been taken from them, and she could never get it back.

No matter how much she loved Hal, Ben and Matt, they were of Rebecca's blood and bone. Lexie had been _hers_ , even as she'd turned her back on her daughter in the end... _When I lost you I would have gone to the ends of the earth to find you, to find a way for us to be together, a family, but you betrayed all of that; now I know that's never going to happen, not now... You made your choices; there's no coming back from them... I'm your mother, and I will always love you, and I pray every day you'll find your place in this world, but it isn't here, not with us, not now..._

Lexie had borne the blow of those words, looking up at Vivien from beneath her tumbled white blonde hair, her eyes Vivien's eyes, eyes as blue as the falling sky, eyes filled with tears that were all too human. But Vivien had wielded those words like a whip, lashing Lexie with her tongue, hardening her heart against her only child, denying her daughter. Lexie had come home, only to find the rooms empty, the door barred to her. She was received as a stranger and classed as an enemy; both father and mother rejecting her. But in the end, Tom had reconciled with Lexie, making his final peace with her, and Vivien could never forgive him for having that chance, for taking it.

Time had passed, the war carrying on in Tom's absence, forcing Vivien to become a reluctant figurehead of the fight, Weaver the power behind the throne. But amidst the blood and despair, Vivien had discovered her prayer had been answered. She had cradled her secret to herself, the knowledge lending a glow to her ravaged features, making those she led look strangely at her, Pope calling her the Merry Widow. But she was oblivious to their stares; only caring about the faint spark of life she was carrying, preferring to spend her spare time wandering the Savannah ruins, her arms wrapped around her abdomen.

Then Tom had returned from the blue, alive but alone, Lexie long gone, lost amongst the stars. The blow had almost felled Vivien, but her secret sustained her, forcing her to stand against the storm. But she didn't tell Tom of her hope, fear keeping her silent, for Tom had changed, becoming brutal and bitter, obsessed with the idea of ending the war once and for all, alarming Vivien with his stories of speaking to his dead wife, communing with a creature who wore Rebecca's face.

Struck with visions, blighted by bloodthirst, Tom had taken up the reins of war again, flinging himself headfirst into the fight. Forcing aside her fear, Vivien had rallied up the remnants of her courage, and tried to tell him about the baby, _sometimes I wonder if we'll ever try having another child,_ but his anger had forced her to retreat into her refuge of silence again, her dread stopping her from trying once more.

Yet she was wrong in thinking it was mindless rage that drove Tom so. It was really a coldly calculated desire for retribution; revenge for all the wrongs the Espheni had wrought him. But most of all he wanted blood for his flesh and blood. Vivien hadn't had to watch their daughter die, powerless to stop her committing suicide to save the world, to save them. The rage made him writhe, his grief devouring his heart from the inside out, tearing it to shreds with its teeth. Over and over he would remember the past, rewriting it, correcting his mistakes, Lexie's accusation screaming through his skull like a klaxon, _where were you..._

But none of this mattered now, _not now_. Lexie was gone, and neither Tom nor Vivien could bring her back. She was nothing but ash, her bones reduced to dust, her life merely a memory treasured too late. So Vivien continued to spin her secrets, hiding the truth in plain sight, and Tom fought on, ruled by a reckless rage, his soul a black hole burning within him.


	2. Lusus Naturae

**Lusus Naturae**

 _Gonna take off all my skin_  
 _Tear apart all of my insides_  
 _When they rifle in_  
 _Mom and Dad think you'll be saved_  
 _They never had the time_  
 _They're gonna medicate your lives_  
 _You were always born a crime..._

"Still no Skitters," Tom said, striding into the makeshift infirmary, startling Vivien. "They've just... stopped." He sank into the seat beside her, his gaze meeting Vivien's disbelieving one. "Don't look at me like that," he said irritably, setting his rifle down on the table, "I can't make any sense of it either. If the Doctor was here..." His voice trailed off into nothing, silenced by the agony in Vivien's eyes.

"If the Doctor was here, we probably wouldn't be in this mess in the first place," Vivien retorted, half turning away from Tom, angrily dashing her hand across her eyes.

"Well, he isn't, and that's that," Tom said tiredly, glancing round at the little they had left, his heart sinking at the sight.

Vivien just ignored him, shaking her black hair back before peering through the ramshackle microscope Matt had made for her.

"What's that?" Tom asked curiously, gesturing to it.

"It's a compound microscope," Vivien said impatiently, "or what passes for a compound microscope nowadays."

"I see sarcasm will never go out of style," Tom said irritably, "not with you around."

"Are you angling for a divorce, my beloved?"

"No, just for some intel on our insect friend here," Tom said, leaning across the table, careful to keep his distance from the creature she was examining. After being bitten by the bizarre bug, he was nervous about getting too close to its corpse, still feeling its sting even now. It had drawn blood, its actions betraying its intent. A whole swarm could take down what remained of the 2nd Mass, so they needed to know exactly what were they were dealing with so they could defeat it. Torturing the Overlord they were currently holding captive, had yielded nothing, bringing Tom to Vivien, hoping for a breakthrough.

"Well, I'm no entomologist," Vivien said, sighing heavily, "but so far I see no antennae, and its exo-skeleton doesn't contain the typical markers of a wasp."

"And?" Tom pressed.

"My DNA is recombinant," Vivien said, squinting through the limited lens, "the chromosomes artificially altered and spliced with fragments of alien organisms, creating a whole new genome structure composed of human and extra-terrestrial attributes, forming diploid somatic cells by doubling the original haploid, making me of bigeminal origin. But if I'm the blue-print, this is the finished product, and it's not just a melding of two species, but a melting pot of several. It has Skitter legs, Espheni arms, black hornet wings and human eyes" -

\- "What!?"

"It has human eyes, Tom," Vivien repeated, struggling to keep her temper under control, "it's a mutation, literally DNA bouillabaisse, an extreme form of lusus naturae resulting from extensive chromosomal alteration, turning the average hymenopteran into an organic weapon."

Tom just stared at her.

"What, surprised that I'm throwing all these fancy words around?" Vivien said, raising an eyebrow. "This is me, Tom," she said, gesturing to the specimen jar. "I have to know what I am so I can understand what I've become."

"You're my wife, Vivien," Tom said, standing up, "not a monster."

" _This_ monster only exists because of _me_ ," Vivien said, her voice cracking. "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if there was a sliver of me in it somewhere. Maybe a toenail or something"

Tom just looked away, running his hand across his beard, only for his eye to catch Anthony's from across the room, the hostility of his gaze startling Tom with its intensity. Ever since Deni's death, Anthony had retreated into himself, lashing out at those who tried to help him, even those closest to him, all but barring Pope out, but he'd never shown any open aggression towards Tom until this moment, catching Tom offguard.

"This is why the Espheni hunted me halfway across the universe, Tom," Vivien snapped, exasperated, oblivious to their interlude. "At that point in time, I was the only successful example of an artificially altered alien-human hybrid. My DNA was the key to the lock, and because of that, they took our daughter, turning her into a weapon" -

\- "That's enough!" Tom exploded, silencing her.

"That's the truth," Vivien said bitterly.

At this, Anthony left the infirmary, barging Cochise out of the way, Tom watching him go, Vivien watching Tom, her brow furrowing. Without another word, she lifted up the specimen jar and microscope, carefully carrying them to the adjacent ante-room, edging round Anne and several camp-beds as she went, before setting them down on an old sideboard dragged in from the ruins. Tom's footsteps followed her, the click of the door closing signalling his ceasefire. All their battles ended in inevitable surrender, this time being no different, Vivien turning to face Tom, his hands finding her hips, her back hitting the wall.

"Still wanting that divorce?" he whispered.

"Maybe," Vivien whispered back, pulling his face down to hers, only let out a sharp cry of pain, her hand flying to her thigh.

"What the hell" - Tom began, only to leap backwards, Vivien crashing against the sideboard, clutching her neck this time, the creature from the jar suddenly buzzing around their heads, Tom grabbing the lid off a cardboard box, trying and failing to flatten it. "It's goddamn alive!" he hollered, brandishing the box lid like a shield.

"No, it's dead as a doornail!" Vivien bellowed back, ducking down behind him. The next thing they knew, it was taking off through the doorway, moving with unmistakeable purpose, Tom taking off after it, Vivien hard on his heels, struggling to keep up, being left behind like before, as always.


	3. Let The Horses Run

**Let The Horses Run**

"Open the gate!" Tom bellowed as he dragged Vivien across the courtyard, the guards scrambling to let them out.

"And there go the Masons," Pope drawled as he sat down on the remains of a rampart, "up there with the Waltons and Kennedys."

Sara sat down beside him, smiling despite herself. "Not a fan?" she teased, nudging him in the side with her elbow.

"Are you?" Pope said, raising an eyebrow.

Sara hesitated. "Little Vi isn't too bad," she said slowly, making Pope wince. "She's a nice little thin' once you get past that sharp tongue of hers."

Pope struggled with himself, his love for Sara winning out over his disbelief at her bizarre fondness for Vivien Mason. The girl was everything Pope hated all wrapped up in one package, a Skitter-siding alien hybrid who also happened to be Tom Mason's wife. She was his worst nightmare brought into being. "Yeah, but she's bought into the Mason brand now," Pope pointed out, "Tom Mason's child bride extraordinaire."

"Yeah, that's a bit... creepy," Sara admitted reluctantly.

"Creepy!?" Pope said incredulously. "Mason's ancient enough to be her father for chrissake. She's barely older than his eldest boy."

"I think she's a bit older than that, _John_ " -

\- "He's like... he's like Huge Crane, _Sara_ ," Pope exclaimed, throwing his hands out with a theatrical flourish.

Sara just shook her head, not sure whether to be annoyed or amused. "Well, she's made her bed," Sara said philosophically. "I suppose she has to lie in it."

"With Mason? No, thanks," Pope said, looking like he was going to hurl.

"Well, married life seems to be suitin' her," Sara said, leaning her head against the wall. "She's positively glowin' with it."

Pope glanced at Sara, narrowing his eyes slightly, not knowing if she was dropping hints for a war-time wedding of their own. It was unspoken between them that this was it, a union to the end; that for him there would be nobody else, that there could be nobody else. It had taken the world to end for them to find each other, but Pope didn't need a ring on his finger to prove what he felt for Sara. She was his, and would always be his, his greater good, bringing out the best of him. She was the only one he showed any modicum of tenderness to, an uncharacteristic gentleness that was reserved solely for Sara.

"What are you lookin' at?" Sara said, smiling that sideways smile that always stopped his shipwreck of a heart.

"You," Pope said simply.

"Nothin' much to see."

"So says you," Pope said, taking her hand and pressing his lips to her palm.

"Charmer."

Pope just laughed, letting go of her hand. "If little Vi's glowin', it's because of the radioactivity, not Mason's amatory abilities," Pope said, picking up the threads of their former conversation, "and the less said about that, the better, or I'm gonna bring up last week's oatmeal."

"I bet Vivien's not starvin'," Sara said bitterly, envy creeping into her voice.

"Not with Mason around," Pope said scathingly. "As long as his heart's desire isn't hungry, the rest of us can slow dance to the sweet song of starvation for all he cares."

"I think he has it in for you," Sara said, her eyes distant, something in her voice startling Pope.

"When hasn't he?" Pope said incredulously. "He came out the womb loathin' me."

"No, this is different," Sara said, her brow furrowing. "I watch the way he looks at you, like he's bidin' his time, y'know?"

"What, he's put bumpin' me off on his bucket list?"

Sara shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know," she admitted. "It's just this... _weird_ look he gets in his eyes sometimes."

"You an optician now, Sara?" Pope said, recovering himself. "If Mason was gonna do somethin', he woulda done it by now."

"You took a pot-shot at his baby girl," Sara reminded him. "He's not gonna let that go."

"That 'baby girl' of his killed most of our people," Pope said, getting angry now, "nobody was spared, you saw that - you fuckin' counted the corpses, the women, the children - she slaughtered Lourdes in front of us all like she was giving a goddamn piano recital. So that weren't no 'baby girl', Sara - that was somethin' that needed to be put down, and I stepped up. Ain't my fault she can catch bullets with her bare hands."

Sara shuddered at this, remembering against her will. "And there's me wantin' a pretty baby of my own," she said quietly, shaking her blonde hair back. "But if that's the way this world turns them out, no thanks."

"Nah," Pope said, drawing her to him. "Vivien's a monster, so the apple ain't gonna fall far from the tree. Blood will out. But our kids are gonna be fine, just fine." He smoothed back her hair, before kissing her brow, Sara leaning against him, contemplating a future they would have to fight for, before Pope reluctantly drew back, letting go of her. "Guess we should head out, see if we can scare up some Skitters," he said reluctantly, getting to his feet.

"Recon all the way, baby," Sara said, setting forth, making Pope smile despite himself.

 _You made me feel again_  
 _Made me dance circles 'round the pieces of your heart_  
 _You made me feel again_  
 _After the last time, didn't think that I could love…_


	4. The Beast Within

**The Beast Within**

Tom strode towards the truck, shouldering his rifle as he moved, Vivien struggling to keep up, one hand unconsciously finding the slight swell of her stomach, the other finding Matt's, keeping both children close. After following the insect to the valley, the creature rejoining the swarm it had become separated from, it was only for Tom and Vivien to be confronted by a landscape teeming with alien mutations. By the time they'd returned with a team led by Dingaan, it was only to find the number had doubled in their absence. However, that threat had been removed by crop-dusting white phosphorus over them, using the device Dingaan had employed earlier to take down the Skitters.

But this hadn't been enough. With the place swarming with not just Skitters, but an alarming array of other creatures, the 2nd Mass needed to know where they were coming from, so they could stop the next wave sure to attack their borders. The beasts were being churned out like produce on a factory line, the Espheni breeding biological weapons on a mass scale, but where, only the Overlord knew, and he wasn't prepared to talk.

However, Ben and Maggie had managed to prise the location from the Overlord's mind, but not without considerable cost, the memory making Vivien recoil. Tom had tried beating the Overlord into submission, but each blow had psychically struck Ben and Maggie as well, almost breaking their minds, their linked psyches unable to bear the extra strain. They'd started seizing, blood pouring from their noses, Vivien screaming at Tom to stop, Ben and Maggie then collapsing, the Overlord slumping into stillness.

But they'd retrieved the intel they needed, including the alarming knowledge another major attack _was_ imminent, so the 2nd Mass were now setting forth to blow up the base where the creatures were being bred, Vivien initially hesitating from joining the mission, thinking of the baby. But she'd shoved aside her doubts, not seeing the point of them. She was in danger twenty-four seven, and she was just as likely to die on the front-line as she was behind it. There was no such place as safety anymore.

Tom had been put out to find Pope gone. Whether he liked it or not, he goddamn needed Pope, since the latter had a Midas-like touch when it came to creating explosions. But it looked like they would have to leave without him, time being of the essence. So with the clock working against them, Tom abandoned the idea of waiting for Pope, lifting Vivien into the truck cab instead, his large hands firm around her waist, only for his fingers to falter, suddenly realising something was wrong.

Something had changed - _she_ had changed, her flesh once as familiar to him as his own, now different, almost alien. Vivien glanced over her shoulder at him, her brow furrowing, and he shoved aside his doubts, refusing to dwell on them, hastily hoisting himself up after her. Weaver handed Vivien her rifle, Matt handing Tom his, father and son exchanging a glance that said more than words could. Tom nodded, clasping Matt's shoulder briefly, before letting go, his hands gripping the steering wheel for support instead.

"I want you and Dingaan to take that drone up to the valley," Tom ordered, struggling to keep his voice steady, "and" -

\- "And you wait there until you hear one hell of an explosion," Weaver interjected, before turning to the crowd surrounding the truck, "and the rest of you get your asses into the back of this hum-dinger, lickety-split." Matt waved at Vivien, exchanging one last glance with his father before taking off at a sprint, forcing the throng to let him through, Tom watching him go with a heavy heart. Vivien noted his emotion, the sight easing her own unease.

The week before, Tom had let Matt tag along on a mission, seeming to almost enjoy bringing his youngest son to the sacrificial altar, allowing him to engage in battle as Alexis had done. To Vivien, it had looked as if he was relishing the opportunity of making Matt in his image, coarsening his son's soul with carnage and slaughter. But Matt had been repelled by the bloodshed, much to Vivien's terrible relief. He had his father's gentleness, a trait Vivien treasured, and to see Tom trying to corrupt this characteristic had led to a row that had rung the rafters. But her words had obviously struck a nerve with Tom, forcing him to once again see his son as a child and not a soldier.

Weaver swung himself up into the truck cab, Vivien now uncomfortably wedged between him and Tom, her rifle pressed against her spine. She hated carrying a weapon, but it was an ugly necessity, forcing her to evolve and adapt. Tom started the ignition, the engine roaring into life, throwing them forwards, making their teeth rattle. But just as he did, Pope suddenly appeared in front of the truck, waving his arms like a windmill, Tom nearly knocking him down.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Tom bellowed, rolling down the window.

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa!_ " Pope yelled, rounding the side of the truck. "Turn that gas-guzzler around, Mason!"

"Why!?" Tom asked incredulously.

"Never mind why," Pope gasped, "just slide over, I'll drive."

"This isn't the time for a road-trip, Pope," Weaver flared up.

"Yeah, it is," Pope retorted. "Now move your ass!"

"Are you insane!?" Weaver snapped. "We're about to be overrun by Dr. Moreau's Island here!" -

\- "What happened?" Vivien said quickly to Pope, cutting across Weaver as she leant across Tom.

"It's Sara," Pope explained in a rush, "she's in big trouble, got stuck in some of that leftover Espheni bomb crap."

"Where is she?" Vivien demanded, grabbing the makeshift med-kit from the dashboard. "How far out?"

"About ten or eleven clicks," Pope said, clutching his side, "I ran all the way south, but we need the truck to get back to her before anything else beats us to it."

Vivien absorbed this information before nodding. "Get in," Vivien instructed, reaching for the door handle, only for Tom to halt her.

"It's in the opposite direction," he said, voice cracking. "We don't have time."

Vivien just stared at Tom, Pope doing a doubletake. "What?" he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "What do you mean 'we don't have time?' "

"We know where they're making the Skitters," Tom said, spitting his words like bullets, "there's a major offensive coming our way within the next hour, and we have to blow up their base of operations" -

\- "No, no, no," Pope said, grabbing the truck door. "We get Sara first" -

\- "The 2nd Mass are sitting ducks" -

\- "You wanna talk about sittin' ducks, Cambridge!?" Pope bellowed. "My woman's out there, easy prey for the first piece of alien shit that comes prancin' her way" -

\- "We blow the place, we circle back and we get Sara," Tom snapped, "so back off! I've got better things to do than save your piece of skirt!"

Instead of exploding like everyone expected him to, Pope just stood there, shaking his head. "Mason, this time _my_ family comes first," Pope said, his voice cracking, "so turn the truck around" -

\- "No!" Tom yelled, looking almost insane. " _No!_ "

Pope stared at him, face bloodless. He had come to Tom for help, for mercy, for all the things he despised in Tom, classing them as weakness, cargo to be jettisoned. But this wasn't Mason before him; it was a monster wearing his face. The Tom he knew and hated was gone, the Tom who would have helped, who would have been _human_ , instead of inhuman -

"Get out of my way," Vivien said, clambering over Tom, only for him to grab her wrist, stopping her short.

"Where the hell are you going?" he snapped, nostrils flaring.

"I'm going to Sara," she spat. "Where else? The moon?"

Tom's grip tightened, his fingers encircling her flesh like manacles. "You're not going anywhere," he hissed, "least of all on some wild goose-chase with John freaking Pope!"

For a moment, her eyes met his, gazes locking, blue battling brown, and then her mouth was crushing his, his hand grabbing her head, gripping her hair, the other sliding up the back of her neck, Tom falling into the trap, Vivien using what was left of his heart against him. She suddenly drew back from him, startling him. "You do your job, and I'll do mine," she whispered, and then she was gone.

 _You will be all that I seek in your twisted light_  
 _I would live inside you_  
 _Words will be all that I keep in an open space_  
 _They would live inside you…_


	5. Goodnight Love

**Goodnight Love**

"Come on, Red-Coat," Pope hollered at Vivien, hauling her on. "You ain't winnin' any gold medals here!"

Vivien just shook her head, too tired to argue, exhaustion threatening to overwhelm her. But she pushed on, Pope's barely concealed terror driving her on. Time had mellowed her hatred of Pope into a bitter truce, each tolerating the other with contemptuous patience. Back at the prison camp, he'd reluctantly shown Vivien another side to his character, forcing her to re-evaluate her opinion of him. Yet she still didn't know him, despite living and almost dying beside him on a daily basis.

With Sara, he was a whole other person, one Vivien didn't recognize. He acted almost human with Sara, displaying a tenderness Vivien didn't think he was capable of. To Vivien, Pope used to be the epitome of selfishness, only concerned with covering his own ass. He was the bastard who'd stuck her in a cage, allowing his brother to lay his hands on her. He'd held a gun to her head too many times to count, verbally abusing her at every turn, casting up her hybrid status at every opportunity he got, before trying to put a bullet between her daughter's eyes, quipping what was good for the goose was good for the gander.

Yet he'd fought to rescue the kids from Clayton, as well as saving Tom after the plane crash, dragging him back to Charleston when he could have left him to die. At the prison camp, he'd secretly helped Vivien, sneaking her food for the women and children the 2nd Mass were sheltering. Despite everything, he'd stuck by the 2nd Mass through thick and thin. He didn't make any sense then or now.

As Vivien glanced up at him, she realised he was a riddle she'd never cared to unravel until perhaps this moment. Pope glanced at her in return, his brow furrowing. "What you starin' at, Spock?" he wheezed, his breath coming in huge rasps.

"Nothing," Vivien snapped. "How much further?"

"Just there," Pope gasped, jerking his head at the distant tree-line.

Vivien just nodded, having now exhausted her capacity for speech.

"God, I wish I had a Post-It handy," Pope panted as they then took the hill.

"Why?" Vivien barely managed to breathe.

"To remind me I'm gonna kill that bastard husband of yours," Pope retorted. "His days of warmin' your bed are done, sugar."

Despite her own annoyance at Tom, Vivien rolled her eyes.

"Walls are thin around here, Red-Coat," Pope drawled, dragging her on, "sound travels."

Vivien did a double-take, before flushing hotly, the meaning of his words suddenly sinking in.

"Like I said, sound travels," Pope repeated, before abruptly taking off, the flame-thrower bouncing between his shoulder-blades as he moved. "Sara!" he shouted, his voice suddenly gaining strength. "Sara baby, I'm back! I'm here" - He stopped, before staggering back, looking like he was going to keel over, making Vivien falter. Then she was forcing her feet forwards, his stunned silence setting off her fear like a trip-wire.

"No," Vivien whispered, taking a step back at the sight of Sara lying sprawled in the dirt, eyes closed, a swarm of insects engulfing her, devouring her flesh, her legs already almost reduced to bone. "The flame-thrower," she said to Pope, turning to him, feeling like she was moving in slow motion. But he just stood there, shellshocked. "Use the fucking flame-thrower!" she screamed, bringing him back to life.

With a howl of agony, sounding like an animal caught in a trap, he unleashed the flames, scorching the ground surrounding Sara, charring the insects into oblivion. Vivien skirted round him, throwing herself down beside Sara, her heart stopping in her chest. It was too late. They were too late. _We don't have time._ Sara's skin was waxen, her nostrils pinched, her flesh hallmarked by death. _I've got better things to do than save your piece of skirt._ It was Tom who did this, her Tom...

"John?" Sara murmured, eyelids flickering.

"I'm here, honey," Pope whispered, kneeling down beside Sara, his hand finding hers.

"You came," Sara whispered, eyes unfocused, her gaze struggling to settle on his face.

"I promised, didn't I?" Pope tried and failed to smile, his eyes welling up with tears. "I promised I would come back, and I did, I'm here."

Sara just nodded, her eyes half closing again. "I can't feel my legs," she moaned, looking down.

"Don't," Vivien said, springing forwards, "don't look down, sweetheart. Just - just look at me, alright?"

Sara glanced up at her, her gaze finally focusing, but this time on Vivien's shadowed face. "What's with the 'sweetheart', little Vi?" Sara almost teased. "You hittin' on me?"

Vivien bit her lip, eyes bright with tears.

"You gonna patch me up or not, girl?" Sara said weakly, jerking her chin at the makeshift med-kit Vivien was still stupidly clutching. "Think I'm a bit beyond savin' though," she winced, rolling her shoulders back.

"Don't - don't say that, Sara," Pope said, his voice cracking. "You're gonna make it, okay?"

Sara smiled brokenly at him, belying his lie. "I guess we won't be havin' that pretty baby," she said quietly, eyes oddly distant. At this, Vivien got up, walking away, Sara's words hitting home. Sara watched her leave, her brow furrowing slightly. "John?" she asked, her voice shaking. "You remember when I said the apocalypse was the best thing that ever happened to me?"

Pope nodded, unable to speak now, his hand cupping the curve of her cheek, holding onto all he had left.

"I lied," Sara said simply. " _You_ were the best thing that ever happened to me." Their gazes met and held, like so long ago when they'd first met, before Sara had drugged him up the eyeballs, attempting to make off with his truck, the memory making Pope smile despite himself. Sara smiled back, a question hovering on her lips, but before she could ask it, her face went blank, her eyes suddenly empty of life, death cruelly cutting her down. There was no gentle fading, only an abrupt end.

"Sara?" Pope whispered, face disbelieving. " _Sara?_ "

"She's - she's gone," Vivien said weakly, making his head whip up. She stood there, her greasy black hair falling to her shoulders, one side of her face horribly scarred, her hand unconsciously shielding her stomach, the significance of this gesture completely lost on Pope. All he could think of was that it should be Vivien lying in the dirt, dead and gone, not his Sara, not her, not like this. A terrible sob escaped his throat, and he finally broke down, burying his face in Sara's matted blonde hair, cradling her broken body in his arms.

Vivien stood there, head spinning. This was Tom's doing. Her Tom had done this. Yet he wasn't her Tom. Somebody else had returned in his place, somebody filled with heartless contempt, who only cared about winning the war and nothing else, communing with creatures that wore the face of his dead wife to deceive him. He was their instrument, carrying out their plans like a puppet, allowing them to manipulate his anger for their own ends.

She remembered the way Tom had looked at Matt back at the truck, seeing his child and not a weapon. She remembered the nights that belonged to them and only them, where they barred what was left of the world out. She remembered the empty expression in his eyes when he told her their daughter was dead, the memory making her wrap her arms around her middle. That was Tom, _her_ Tom, and as the truck rumbled towards them, arriving too late, despite her disquiet, Vivien swore nothing would take him from her again.

 _No one knows where the ladder goes_  
 _You're gonna lose what you love the most_  
 _You're not alone in anything_  
 _You're not unique in dying…_


	6. Here Is Gone

**Here Is Gone**

 _Clear blue water, high tide came and brought you in_  
 _And I could go on and on, on and on, and I will_  
 _Skies grew darker, currents swept you out again_  
 _And you were just gone and gone, gone and gone…_

Tom sat staring into the flames, his face pale, dark eyes almost unseeing. Across from him sat Pope, the fire dividing them further, madness stirring in Pope's chest, an insanity that filled the hollow chambers of his heart. He had prepared Sara's body for burial himself, allowing nobody else near her, slamming the door in Vivien's face when she hesitantly offered to help him. The funeral was being held tomorrow, Pope having dug the grave with his bare hands, the world reduced to a dull roar, the earth falling through his fingers, black upon black, a darker shade of death.

After Pope's rejection, Vivien had locked herself away in her room, avoiding Tom, unable to reconcile her heart with her head. It felt like she was being torn in two, wrapping her arms around her abdomen, trying to hold herself together. In the end, she'd forced herself to go outside and find Tom, to confront him over what he'd done and become, bracing herself for the battle ahead, knowing she was going to have to fight tooth and nail to bring Tom back from the brink. In leaving Sara to die, the 2nd Mass had succeeded in blowing up where the creatures were being created, but it was an empty victory in Vivien's eyes. This wasn't what the 2nd Mass did, it wasn't what _Tom_ did, and somebody had to stop him, even if it was his own wife.

She stepped forwards, only to see Weaver approach Tom, his face inscrutable under the brim of his skip-hat. He held up his hand, silently asking for some space, so she retreated to the ornate remnants of the water fountain, watching Weaver, wondering what he was up to. Unknown to her, Anthony had just executed the Overlord, Weaver imparting the news to Tom in a few short sentences, making Tom suddenly sit up straight, remembering the look Anthony had given him earlier in the infirmary.

"We've confiscated his weapons," Weaver said in an undertone, glancing at Anne as she went past, her head bowed. She was in the firing line over Anthony, failing to diagnose his PTSD until it was too late, but Weaver kept this to himself. Anne was overworked and understaffed, Viven trying and failing to shift some of the burden to her shoulders, along with only one or two others who hindered more than helped, not knowing one end of a bed-pan from another, and not wanting to know either. There was too many wounded or weak requiring Anne's attention, and so Anthony had slipped through the net.

"The situation is under control, then?" Tom said quietly.

"At the cost of one dead Overlord," Weaver said dourly.

Tom just looked away, thinking that wasn't all that had been cost, Sara's death sitting ill on his conscience. Her blood was on his hands, a sharp shock to the system, waking him up to the real world. For the first time in a long time, Tom looked at himself, _really_ looked at himself, and he hated what he saw. He had warned Ben so long ago not to let hate destroy him, but he'd allowed hate to do just that to him, replacing his compassion with cruelty. His brutality had led to Sara's death, as much as Lexie's had led to Lourdes dying, father like daughter, family reaching full circle.

"Tom," Weaver said, startling him back into semblance.

"What?" Tom said, unable to meet Weaver's eyes.

"Are you okay?"

Tom closed his eyes, the sight Sara's broken body now eternally engraved on his memory. "Do you think we should have gone to get her first?" he asked, his fists clenching by his sides.

Weaver hesitated. "No," he said slowly, "but I just remember a time you would have."

Tom took the blow, before turning away, his jaw working, lips trembling. Weaver took the hint and left, Vivien taking it as her cue to come forwards. She edged her way over to Tom, unsure when she'd been sure of him before, distrust threatening to undermine her determination. Sensing her presence, Tom turned around, his face tormented, the pain burning in his eyes ending her uncertainty once and for all. There would be no fight. He had returned to her at his own free will. Holding his hand out to her, she took it, allowing him to draw her onto his lap, Tom wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her black hair, Pope watching the tender tableau, imagining an infinite amount of ways to tear it apart.

 _This love is good, this love is bad_  
 _This love is alive back from the dead_  
 _These hands had to let it go free_  
 _And this love came back to me_


	7. Bad Blood

**Bad Blood**

 _Band-aids don't fix bullet holes  
You say sorry just for show  
You live like that, you live with ghosts..._

"John?"

Pope knelt there, staring at the small stone angel that marked Sara's grave, his mind a dark cavern, barely registering Tom's presence. He had allowed no-one to attend the funeral, shrouding and burying Sara's body himself. She was his, and he was hers, in death as in life. Slowly, he stood up, before turning to face Tom, his broken heart brimming with hate, only to find Tom wasn't alone. Vivien stood beside him, one hand gripping Tom's, the other half raised, as though reaching out to Pope, trying to bring him back from the brink. But she was the one who'd brought him here, her very existence ending Sara's own.

"You... you didn't have to do this alone," she said, stepping forwards, taking Tom with her, "because you're not alone, John. We - we care about you." The last was almost a lie, but in this moment, grief carved it into truth.

But Pope just stared at her almost unseeingly, her words as empty as air.

Tom studied him, the sight of Pope being so uncharacteristically still, unnerving him. "I know that you blame me," Tom said quietly, his voice cracking, "and I blame myself, but this war's taken so many people that we've loved, all we can do is keep fighting and win this war, honouring their memory and sacrifice."

At this, Vivien let go of his hand, unable to stomach his grand speech. Tom might have come back to her, but the words that had once held worth, were now meaningless to her. She knew Tom would never forgive himself for Sara's death, but his empty epithets about honour and sacrifice only served to further his sin.

Tom half turned away from her, knowing she was silently condemning him for his hypocrisy, but he didn't know what else to do. Words had been his weapon, using them to turn the tide in his favour, but he was realising too late that it hadn't been words that had won his wars, but rather the emotion and integrity behind them, emotions he had exiled by surrendering his will to those who wore his dead wife's face.

"We need you," Tom said bluntly to Pope, giving up all pretence. "We're so close to winning this war..." Pope turned away from them, his face suddenly coming alive with revulsion, instantly setting Tom on edge. "That's all we came to say," Tom said quickly, taking Vivien's hand, drawing her back from Pope, "that we need you, and we're here for you, and - and I'm sorry. I'm sorry about Sara."

Pope just stared at him, his gaze filled with mocking malice.

Tom nodded before all but dragging Vivien away, deliberately deaf to her protests. Once they'd returned to the safety of the ruins, Vivien yanked herself out of his grip, her face alight with anger. "What the hell did you just do back there!?" she exclaimed, shoving him backwards, making him stagger.

"I was just trying to make amends," Tom said, struggling to keep his temper as well as his balance.

"What, by rubbing in what you did?" Vivien pointed out. "Patronizing him, insulting him" -

\- "Insulting him?" Tom said incredulously. "I told him we needed him" -

\- "Yeah, for your war machine," Vivien spat. "Not for anything else. By saying that you're implying he's as disposable as Sara was."

Tom stared at her, his mouth opening and shutting, before finally clamping it shut.

"Yeah, exactly," Vivien said, shaking her head in disgusted disbelief.

"Hey, that bastard tried to put a bullet in our daughter" -

\- "This isn't about Lexie!" Vivien screamed, tears springing to her eyes, "this is about Sara; about you not going back for her; about you owning up to what you did, accepting what you did, and admitting what you did. This is about _you_ , Tom, and what you've become, about you coming back from it. And you have to come back from it - I thought you were" -

\- "I am" -

\- "Well, stop doing a complete 360!" Vivien cried. "Whatever you're talking to, it isn't Rebecca, and you have to realise that" -

\- "I know it's not Rebecca," Tom said from between gritted teeth. "I've always known that" -

\- "Are you sure?" Vivien said. "Because it doesn't seem that way to me. You don't seem to realise it's turned you into a monster" -

\- "I thought _you_ were the monster," Tom snapped before he stop himself, rounding on her. "Isn't that what you keep telling me? That I married a monster?"

Vivien stared at him, all the blood draining from her face, her legs trembling beneath her, unable to believe what he'd just said. Tom stared back at her, anger boiling his blood, scorching his veins. A tear rolled down Vivien's cheek, followed by another, then another, and she turned her back on him, hiding her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stop him seeing her weakness.

"Oh God," Tom breathed, wrapping his arms around his head, all anger leaving him, replaced by bitter regret. "Oh _God_." He turned his face up to the falling sky, realising too late that he'd not just lost himself, but his love for Vivien, giving it to the ghost of his dead wife instead. "I'm sorry," he said brokenly, placing his hand on Vivien's shoulder, "I'm so sorry" -

But Vivien didn't answer him, shaking his hand off, before turning and running away, the gesture strangely childish. He watched her go, fighting the urge to go after her, knowing it wouldn't do any good. At that moment, the sound of shouting caught his attention, making him whip around, only to see Anthony squaring up to Weaver, looking like he was going to deck the Colonel. "Is this how you run an outfit!?" Anthony almost screamed, spit flecking the air. "I'm the best able-bodied soldier here!"

Weaver's jaw tightened at Anthony's arrogance. "I can't risk you having another lapse," he said quietly, refusing to play to the crowd surrounding them.

"This is stupid!" Anthony bellowed. "You can't keep me out of the fight!"

"He can and he will," Tom said from behind them, making Anthony turn around.

"Tom," Weaver said warningly.

Tom just held his hand up, acknowledging but not obeying. "Anthony," he began, only to stop short as Anthony just upped and left, leaving him standing there, looking like a fool. "And he just did not do that," Tom said in an undertone, shaken despite himself, sensing this was just the start.

"He just did," Pope said, appearing out of nowhere.

Tom exchanged a glance with Weaver, something silent passing between them. "John," Tom then said, spreading his hands out as he stepped forwards, "I want to apologize about earlier" -

\- "About what?" Pope said, shrugging his shoulder. "About sacrificing Sara? About how you're going to sacrifice the rest of the 2nd Mass for your sacred cause?"

Tom shook his head, but before he could say anything else, Pope did an Anthony, turning on his heel and leaving, barging his way through the crowd, their collective gaze boring into his back. Tom just stood there, feeling like the ground had been pulled out from under his feet.

"Tom Mason?"

Weaver and Tom turned in tandem, only to see Cochise step forth from the shadows, his ridged face strained. Tom had been uncomfortably aware that Cochise seemed to have been avoiding his company as of late, Tom putting it down to his own brutal behaviour, knowing such cruel conduct sat ill on Cochise's conscience, but as he studied his old friend's tired stance, Tom suddenly realised it wasn't about that at all. But before he could bridge the distance, Cochise gestured for Tom and Weaver to follow him, the summons silent, as though further speech was beyond his strength.

They ducked under the tattered curtain, stepping into the former beauty parlour that served as their makeshift military headquarters, Hal, Ben and the others gathered around the Volm monitor playing the hologram recording Cochise had made of Tom delivering one of his trademark speeches, an address that was currently being relayed around what was left of the world, rallying all resistance units for the final fight, Tom's gravelly voice echoing oddly in the dim gloom, _so far our primary focus has been on dismantling dormant Espheni technology, preventing the enemy from getting their power core back online, and from there, the first step to victory can be taken by killing as many of their bio-creations as possible. If all the militias around the world do this, we can take out the Espheni war machine, and take back our home..._

Tom winced, wishing they would switch it off, involuntarily remembering listening to the first playback, all hunched shoulders and bowed head, trying to hide his awkwardness by miming a drum-roll, finishing up with slapping his palms together with false aplomb, Vivien leaning against him, repressing a smile, reading him like a book. It had been a rare interlude, recalling the old days, the old Tom, so awkward and shy, Vivien never more than two feet from him, her hand in his, her crimson lips curved in that crooked smile he loved so. The memory made him ache for Vivien, to go after her and apologize, but duty divided him from her, forcing him to stay put.

"I think it's time for a personal stylist, Professor," Pope drawled, coming through the curtain, Anthony at his heels. "Next we'll be seeing you on CNN, huh?"

Tom turned away from him, refusing to rise to the bait.

"Why are we here, Cochise?" Weaver said abruptly, shooting Pope a warning glare. "As much I enjoy watching Tom's weather-girl audition, I've got other business to attend to."

"First things, first," Cochise said, sitting down with a weary sigh, "I would like to report the Mason Militias have been largely successful so far in their assaults on the Espheni" -

\- "No, no, no," Tom said, shaking his head, "you can't call them that."

"Stop the false modesty, Mason," Pope jeered, "if your head gets any bigger, you won't fit through the door."

"As I was saying," Cochise said, his ridged brow furrowing, "so far Tom Mason's global coalition has destroyed an estimated 52% of Espheni" -

\- "Get to the point," Pope snapped, folding his arms across his chest. "Some of us have bigger fishheads to fry."

Tom stood up at this, unable to take anymore of Pope's bullshit, but Weaver halted him with his hand, shaking his head almost imperceptibly.

"The issue is with this grey area in the north-east," Cochise said, getting up with another weary sigh as he crossed over to the Volm monitor, switching Tom's hologram off, before bringing up a 3D map, "it's currently inaccessible to our reconnaissance efforts."

"That's Washington DC," Tom said, exchanging a glance with Weaver.

"We do not know what's going on there, Tom Mason," Cochise said slowly, "it's just static."

"Do you think it's the Espheni?" Tom asked, heart in mouth.

Cochise spread his hands wide. "Again, we do not know," he said, bowing his head.

"They might be joyriding a jamming device like they're doing up at Fayetteville," Weaver interjected, referring to the other conflict rearing up on the horizon.

"It's too far out to say," Cochise said carefully.

"But they don't have any power to operate a communications transmitter," Tom pointed out.

"The power core was supporting their greater war machine," Cochise explained, "such as Beamers and Mechs. But the Espheni also have self-contained energy mechanisms for smaller applications such as communications transmitters."

"And you didn't tell us about this before, why?" Pope said angrily.

"We'll deal with Fayetteville first, then DC later," Tom said abruptly, shouldering his rifle, signalling an end to the meeting. But just as he made for the curtained doorway, the loud roar of air engines made him stop dead in his tracks, the walls reverberating threateningly around them.

"Ah, that will be my father," Cochise said with uncharacteristic awkwardness, startling them all, and then he was stooping under the doorframe, gone from their sight.


	8. Seven Years Bad Luck

**Seven Years Bad Luck**

Vivien burst into her room, head spinning, tears streaming down her face, only to stop short at the sight of Maggie standing in front of the full-length mirror in nothing but her black bra and ripped jeans, her blonde hair piled high on her head, craning her neck over her shoulder as she examined her reflection, studying her spikes. At her sudden entrance, Maggie whirled around, her eyes widening with shock, before recovering herself, face defiant.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Vivien said in disbelief, taking a step back.

"I - I was checking my spikes," Maggie said, unable to meet her eyes, hastily snatching up her shirt and jacket. "You have the only full-length mirror around here."

Vivien just stared at her, completely confused. "But what is there to check though?" she said, feeling like she was missing something. "You haven't sprouted wings, have you?"

"It's okay for you to be flippant," Maggie spat, shrugging on her shirt, "you don't have these things on your back."

"No, but I did have my entire DNA rewritten by an ancient alien superpower," Vivien retorted. "Try that on for size."

Maggie glanced at the ground, trying to keep her temper. "What's wrong?" she asked Vivien abruptly, taking in her tear-streaked face.

"What do you care?" Vivien said tiredly, sitting down on the edge of the old mattress that served her and Tom as a marital bed.

"Of course I care," Maggie hissed, rounding on her. "I've done nothing but care, Vi. I helped take care of your daughter after you disappeared off the face of the earth" -

\- "I was in an Espheni prison camp!" Vivien screamed, stunning Maggie. "Whilst you were living in La-La Land, we were starving, dying" -

\- "I'm sorry" -

\- "I don't care if you're sorry, Maggie," Vivien spat, "and I don't care if you care. Ever since you got those spikes, you've become a total stranger" -

\- "You helped put these spikes in my back" -

\- "Because you were dying!" -

\- "I'd rather have died than have these things in my back," Maggie said, her voice shaking, "it would have at least been my choice, not yours, or Hal's" -

\- "Hal _loves_ you, Maggie," Vivien exploded. "That's why he did it, and that's precisely why you shouldn't be fucking him over with his brother" -

\- "Ben inadvertently put the goddamn whammy on me," Maggie snapped. "Whatever you think about us, it's not through free-will."

Vivien stared at Maggie, all the blood draining from her face. "What?" she whispered, unsteadily getting to her feet.

"I'm not in control, Vi," Maggie whispered, tears springing to her eyes, "and it's killing me."

"But Ben wouldn't" -

\- "He - he can't help it," Maggie repeated. "It's the spikes, they connect us, and he can't stop it. He tries, but he can't, neither of us can. What he feels, I feel. You saw it there with the Overlord."

Vivien just stood there, head spinning. "But I thought it was the Overlord that was doing that," she said stupidly.

"No, it wasn't," Maggie said impatiently. "It was the spikes and Ben and I just goddamn want rid of them!" She suddenly turned and punched the mirror, shattering it into shards, Vivien violently recoiling, her hand flying to her mouth. Maggie advanced on her, her eyes wild, knuckles bloodied. "I want the spikes out," she said in a rush. "I want _you_ take them out."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Vivien said, backing away from her. "That's major invasive surgery, Maggie. I - I just don't have these skills."

"You helped deharness these children back at the school in Acton," Maggie argued, "and you solely operated the Volm deharnessing device in Charleston" -

\- "I _helped_ in Acton," Vivien reminded her, "it was the Doctor, Anne and Lourdes who did the deharnessing. As for Charleston, alien tech did all the heavy lifting. All I did was work it."

"Cochise has a portable deharnessing device," Maggie said, not taking no for an answer, "all you would do is assist him like you do with Anne."

"Wait, Cochise has agreed to this?" Vivien said, doing a double-take. "Is he even qualified to make such a decision? Shouldn't you be speaking to Anne about all of this?"

"Anne's loyalties are to the 2nd Mass," Maggie said bitterly, half turning away from her, "she's not going to risk her old flame losing one of his star soldiers."

Vivien paled at this dig, but she stood her ground. "Are you suggesting I go behind my husband's back?" she said stiffly.

"Aren't you already doing that?" Maggie said, raising an ironic eyebrow, her gaze sliding to Vivien's stomach.

Vivien turned away this time, her chin trembling.

"Look, I'm not judging you," Maggie said quickly, realising her error, "it's none of my business - it's just I need you with me on this, Vi."

Silence.

"You want me to literally have your back?" Vivien said slowly, turning back around.

Maggie stared at her, before getting what she was saying. "You'll do it?" she said in disbelief.

Vivien nodded, biting her lip, wondering at what she was getting herself into.

"Thank you," Maggie said simply, her eyes alight with deep emotion.

"I'll... I'll help you, Mags," Vivien said, wrapping her arms around herself, "but it's imperative you understand the risk you're running. We're talking about extensive spinal surgery here - if it goes wrong, you're at risk of paraplegia."

"Cochise said the spikes have an engineered bio-plasma," Maggie explained, "that there's a chance my spine has regenerated, making spike removal potentially harmless" -

"Potentially," Vivien tiredly interjected. "It's not foolproof."

"I'm willing to run the risk, Vi," Maggie said just as tiredly. "I can't live like this anymore. I need my independence back."

Vivien studied Maggie for a moment, knowing all too well how private Maggie was, before nodding, her final acquiescence. "When are you wanting it done?" she asked in an undertone, pushing the hair out of her eyes.

"Now?" Maggie suggested, startling Vivien.

"Now?" Vivien echoed, her eyebrows climbing up her forehead.

"Why not?" Maggie said, shrugging her shoulders, trying and failing to hide her terrible eagerness. "No time like the present, huh?"

"I'm - I'm not exactly in the right frame of mind, Mags," Vivien said weakly, sitting down on the edge of the mattress again.

"Tom?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Vivien flared up, wiping her eyes with the inside of her wrist.

"Why are you not telling him about the baby?" Maggie pressed.

"How the hell do you even know about that?" Vivien snapped.

"Because I've been where you are," Maggie said, unperturbed, "trying to hide something in plain sight."

Vivien averted her face.

"But you're not alone, Vi," Maggie said, sitting down beside her, "I was, and you don't have to be. You should tell Tom, Vi."

"He doesn't want another baby," Vivien said simply. "Not now anyways - if ever. He's going to flip when he finds out."

"I was under the impression he'd already flipped," Maggie said, nudging her, "you're not the only one not to have noticed Tom's turned into the Terminator."

But Vivien didn't smile, thinking of Sara. "I just... I just need some time to myself, Maggie," she said, sighing heavily, "it feels like I'm being hit by brick-bats, what with one thing after another" - Suddenly the loud roar of air engines silenced her, the walls reverberating threateningly around them. "What the hell..." Vivien began, only to realise what the roar signalled. "The Volm are back," she said, getting to her feet. "I better go and roll out the red carpet," she added hastily, suddenly wanting away from Maggie, from everything, only wanting to be alone.

"But" -

\- "Later, Mags," Vivien promised with false flippancy, "and you owe me a mirror, bitch." And with a whirl of black hair, she was gone.

 _Jumping out in front of trucks_ _  
_ _Stepping on the cracks_ _  
_ _Seeing my reflection in the broken glass…_


	9. Better Late Than Never

**Better Late Than Never**

Vivien collided into Cochise, the alien catching her elbow, steadying her. "Where's the fire, Vivien Mason?" he said, making her do a double-take.

"Did you just make a _joke_ , Cochise?" she said in disbelief.

"There is a first time for everything," Cochise said formally, bowing his head. "Better late than never."

Vivien just stared at him.

"Is there a problem, Vivien Mason?" Cochise said, ridged brow furrowing. "You look like you have got out of the wrong side of bed this morning."

"Alright, can the real Cochise please stand up?" Vivien said, tilting her head to the side as she studied him.

"I am standing up," Cochise replied, confused.

"What's with the clichés, Cochise?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"If I wish to employ idioms, that is no concern of yours," Cochise said abruptly, making to leave, only for Vivien to grab his elbow this time.

"What's wrong?" she asked, worried now. "You seem out of sorts."

"I have been... out of sorts for some time, Vivien Mason," Cochise confessed unwillingly. "In fact, I wished to speak to you on the subject in the Infirmary the other day."

"Why didn't you?"

"You and the Chief seemed... preoccupied," Cochise said delicately.

Vivien flushed hotly at this, despite what had transpired later between her and Tom. "Well, you should have come to me about it long before now," she said, trying to recover her dignity. "What is it you wanted to speak to me about?"

Cochise averted his face, suddenly lost for words.

"Is it do with the Volm returning?" Vivien pressed, glancing at the large spaceship descending to Earth in the middle distance.

Cochise raised his head, almost about to answer, but before he could, Tom and the others came rushing up to them, Vivien shrinking back against the wall, Tom slowing to a stop at the sight of her. But she avoided his eyes, casting her gaze to the ground instead, wrapping her arms around herself. Oblivious to this bit of byplay, Weaver stepped forwards, his brow furrowing under the brim of his skip-hat. "Did you know the Volm were returning today?" he fired at Cochise, his old suspicions resurfacing.

"It is I who summoned the greater Volm," Cochise admitted, shooting Vivien a sideways glance, indirectly answering her instead, "I have to see my father to say goodbye."

"Where's he going now?" Weaver asked, eyes narrowing.

"He's not going anywhere," Cochise said uneasily, "I am dying."

"What!?" Weaver said, doing a double-take, everyone else echoing his gesture.

"I am dying," Cochise said slowly, and not a little impatiently.

Vivien turned away, several things suddenly slotting into place, as well as half observed recollections, the way Cochise always sat down suddenly during mid-speech, how he stopped to rest when he usually strode forth, his presence absent on occasion, all things she'd never bothered to bother about, too wrapped up in her own world for anyone else -

"Did you know about this?" Tom fired at her, startling Vivien.

"She did not know, Tom Mason," Cochise flared up. "I have tried many times to take her into my confidence, but my courage, alas, always failed me at the crucial point."

At this, Vivien held out her hand, Cochise taking it, Tom turning away this time.

"But how can you be dying?" Ben asked, bewildered.

"My life-span has reached its natural conclusion," Cochise explained tiredly, "so I sought out my father for the Exchange of Silence."

"And that is?" Hal pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"We sit together and experience each other's presence for a final time," Cochise said, reluctantly letting go of Vivien's hand, "it is an ancient Volm tradition."

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Tom snapped, turning back around. "We could have helped you!"

"Nobody can help me, Tom Mason," Cochise said, looking away. "We Volm have two vital organs that are similar to human kidneys. I was born with only one, and that is now failing, so my life-span has concluded."

"But what about a transplant?" Vivien suggested hesitantly. "Is it possible for your species to undergo such a procedure?"

Cochise hesitated, but before he could speak, Vivien ploughed on, regardless of her rudeness.

"Your father could be a potential donor," she said in a rush, hope altering her face, setting her eyes alight, painfully reminding Tom this was what made him fall in love with her in the first place, that fire in her, "if you let me, I could speak to him - Anne as well of course - to discuss what such an operation would entail if your father was a match." She looked at Cochise expectantly, expecting him to fall into line with the fight, but all he did was double-up, a strange groan escaping his lips, alarming everyone.

"Cochise, are you alright?" Tom said helplessly, grabbing his arm. "Are you in pain? Talk to me!" His panic was almost comical to behold, the others edging around Cochise like nervous hens, Vivien ready to run for Anne, heart in mouth.

But Cochise straightened up, his ridged face serene. "No, I found Vivien Mason's suggestion to be humorous," Cochise explained calmly, "though I am a little bewildered by her observation on my father possibly being an incendiary device."

"I didn't mean that kind of match," Vivien said quietly, shaking her head, "just that he could help you" -

At this, Cochise doubled up again, groaning again.

"That was laughter?" Weaver said, perplexed.

"Yes," Cochise said, repressing a smile.

"This isn't funny, Cochise," Tom said, getting angry again.

Cochise sighed heavily, all alien humour fading. "My father is a soldier in the midst of war," he explained tiredly, "he cannot be distracted by something like this."

"Something like this!?" Vivien protested, making to grab him again, Cochise halting her with his hand.

"I... I need to go now," he said abruptly, inclining his head. "My father awaits." And with that, he was gone.

 _We all make mistakes, I'm trying to catch a break_ _  
_ _Putting the past away…_


	10. Cracks

**Cracks**

 _Don't hang around once the promise breaks_ _  
_ _Or you'll be there when the next one's made…_

Vivien wove her way through the crowd, anxious to find Anne, refusing to accept Cochise's refusal. If she could save him, she would, but she couldn't do it on her own. There were no medical personnel onboard the Volm vessel, and it was beyond Vivien's skill to perform a transplant on her own. It would have to be Anne, if only Anne would agree to it. But Vivien wasn't sure if she would. Anne did everything by the book, and if Cochise didn't give permission to have the procedure carried out, it was most likely Anne would side with him on the subject. She'd already voiced disapproval over Vivien implanting the spikes in Maggie's back, so Vivien didn't hold out any hope she'd side with her on this.

"Hey, Vi!" Maggie exclaimed, grabbing Vivien's elbow, startling her. "What's going on with the Volm?"

"Cochise is dying," Vivien said bluntly, making Maggie pale, "his father came back to perform some farewell ritual."

Maggie turned away from her, torn in two, all her dreams crumbling into dust.

"I think Cochise thought there would be enough time to help you," Vivien said quietly. "But" -

\- "Can't anything be done?" Maggie said, turning around. "Not for me, but for Cochise? And - and I don't mean for my sake, but his own," she amended, her voice low, her dark eyes burning in her bloodless face.

"We can try a transplant," Vivien said tiredly. "That's his only hope, but there's no guarantee his father will be a match, or that it'll even work."

"You performing the procedure?" Maggie said, confused.

"No, I need to speak to Anne," Vivien said, "but it's not just that - I really think we should approach Anne about removing your spikes," she continued, voice cracking. "I'll still help, but I'm not a doctor, and that's what you need" -

\- "We can't keep piling everything onto Anne's shoulders, Vi," Maggie snapped, "she's near breaking point as it is. I know you try to help, but you're no Lourdes. Anne's being run into the ground, and now you're trying to dump me and Cochise onto her, as well as your pregnancy if you haven't already" -

\- "Keep your fucking voice down," Vivien hissed, glancing anxiously around them.

"Cochise is removing my spikes," Maggie said, enunciating every syllable, "or he was going to. But what I don't get is why _you_ can't. The deharnessing device here is no different to the one in Charleston. You could do it in your sleep" -

\- "Do you not understand what you're asking!?" Vivien snapped, rounding on her. "This isn't a straightforward harnessing removal. You suffered a severe spinal cord injury - you were bloody _paralysed_ , Mags. That's why we used the spikes, not because we wanted to, but because we were forced to. But I don't know what taking them out is going to do. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I can take the spikes out, Cochise or no Cochise, but I can't answer for the consequences."

"You put them in, Vivien," Maggie said slowly, "so you can take them out."

"I only put them in because Anne was AWOL and you were a lost cause," Vivien spat back, "now's a little bit different."

Maggie stared at her. "I came to you for help, Vivien," she said, advancing on her, "and all you did was make excuses, contradicting yourself, saying one minute it was beyond your skills and then the next, saying you would do it. So let's cut to the chase, and bypass all the bullshit. You're more than qualified to take my spikes out, but risk aside, the real reason why you don't want to do it because it would get right up your husband's nose" -

"What, you think I'm siding with Tom against you?" Vivien spat. "You're not a pawn, Maggie, you're a person. I don't care about your superhero skills, I care about you" -

\- "I'm not talking about that," Maggie said, "that's the angle Tom would take, but not you. He doesn't want to lose his best weapon. However, your loyalties have always been a little bit more... opaque compared to the others. The real reason is Tom's already pissed at you, and you don't want to piss him off even more by taking my spikes out, because at some point you're gonna have to sweet-talk him round to the idea of bringing up a baby on the battlefield" -

\- "I am done with this," Vivien said, holding her hands up. "I am done with this, and with you" -

\- "Vi" -

\- "Back off, Mags," Vivien said, whirling on her, "just back the hell off, alright?"

Maggie just shook her head before turning and leaving, Vivien watching her go, feeling like the world was closing in on her. No matter which way she turned, there was no breathing space to be found, only crushing walls. As she made to head for the Infirmary, Ben blocked her path, face earnest, an expression Vivien seldom seen him wear now, painfully reminding her of the past, of the bookish boy he'd been, not the killing machine he'd become.

"Hey," Vivien said uneasily, remembering Maggie's words, about Ben influencing her behaviour.

"Hey," Ben said, tensing up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Vivien lied. "Do you need help with something?"

"I wanted to speak to Maggie," he said, craning his neck, "but she took off just as I was coming over. You two fighting or something?" he asked, brow furrowing.

"No, we weren't," Vivien lied again.

"Well, do you know where she was going?"

"Just leave Maggie alone, Ben," Vivien snapped, losing all self-control.

Ben paled at her tone. "Is this about Hal?" he said quietly.

Vivien stared at him before recovering himself. "No, it's about Maggie, and how you're messing with her head" -

\- "I can't help it," Ben snapped. "Neither of us can. It's the spikes" -

\- "Just keep your distance, alright?" Vivien said, shaking from head to foot now. "I know you can't help it, but just keep away from her."

Ben exhaled sharply, struggling to master himself, not wanting to fall out with his stepmother. "Okay, fine I will," he said, spreading his hands wide. "Happy?"

Vivien bit her lip before nodding. "Yeah," she said, running her hand down her face. "Happy." Then she sighed heavily, making Ben glance worriedly at her. "I need your help, Ben," she said, pulling her tangled black hair back into a bun, making a spur on the moment decision. "I want you to be my back-up."

"For what?" Ben said, confused at this sudden turn of events.

"We have to save Cochise," Vivien said simply, securing the bun in place. "I'm not letting him die - _we're_ not letting him die."

"Okay, I get that part," he said, brow furrowing again, "but where do I fit into your plan? I don't exactly have medical expertise."

"You're here," Vivien said as though that explained everything, "and that's all I need."

Ben stared at her. "Uh, thank you?" he said hesitantly, brow furrowing even further.

"Why are you thanking me?" Vivien said, frowning.

"Never mind," Ben said hastily, wondering at Vivien's weird mood-swings. "What's the plan?"

"We save Cochise," Vivien repeated, looking at him as if he were mad.

"Okay, we save Cochise," Ben agreed, humouring her. "Let's do it."


	11. These Walls Used To Hold Heroes

**These Walls Used To Hold Heroes**

Vivien and Ben made their way to the outhouse Shaq had made his base of operations, Hal having imaginatively dubbed it 'Shaq's Shed.' Once, Ben would have grinned at this, but not now. As for Vivien, she felt if she could get Cochise's closest friend onside, she would stand a better chance of convincing Cochise to co-operate, not realising Cochise was broaching the subject with his father right at that very moment, arguing for a second chance at the fight against the Espheni, to finish what he had started once and for all

But she hesitated in the doorway at the sight of Tom and the others gathered around a large spinning 3D structure of the Earth, Vivien instantly recognizing it as Volm technology, her curiosity caught despite itself. Everyone glanced up, Tom making to move towards her, only to stop at the look on her face. "Come in, Vivien Mason and Ben Mason," Shaq said with his usual blunt courtesy, "but do not speak. I am in the middle of a most important discourse."

Ben hastily nodded, before steering Vivien to a discreet corner.

"I said we'd deal with DC later," Tom said, picking up the threads of the discussion again. "Not now." He'd been put out at Shaq summoning him to his shed, halting the mission to find fuel, the alien ignoring everyone's protests, completely and utterly overruling them.

"The Espheni are suspected to be near Washington DC," Shaq continued, unperturbed, startling Tom. "Jamming our intel has increased by a powerful margin, and they also appear to be concealing several major operations" -

\- "Wait, how do you know all this?" Tom said, halting him with his hand. "Cochise just said it was only static up there."

"General Waschak-cha'ab has just enlightened us on this new turn of events," Shaq explained, referencing Cochise's father. "As I was saying before Tom Mason's most abrupt interruption, they appear to be concealing several major operations, mainly based in capital cities," he continued, spinning the globe around, "Moscow, Tokyo, London, but the largest seems to be taking place just above Washington," he said, bringing America back to the fore again.

"Anywhere else?" Weaver pressed, sensing more.

"There is also an offensive being mounted in Peru," Shaq said slowly, gesturing to the globe, Tom leaning over to study it in closer detail. "Why this is, we do not know."

"But that looks like the Nazca Lines," Tom said, frowning.

"And they are?" Hal said, speaking up for the first time.

"Geoglyphs," Tom explained, straightening up. "There's an ancient myth aliens landed there centuries ago."

"That was the Doctor," Vivien said before she could stop herself.

"Thank you, Vivien Mason," Shaq said abruptly. "That will be all."

"Whoa, we're not done," Tom said hurriedly, waving his hands like flags at Shaq. "What about Fayetteville? They still jamming Fayetteville?"

"Yes, Tom Mason" - Shaq began, only for Matt to burst through the door, bellowing, "Dad! Dad!"

"Hang on a second," Tom said, shooting Matt a reproving glance. "How bad?" he aimed at Shaq.

"Worse than before," Shaq admitted. "How soon can you get there?"

"As soon as we can get more vehicles and fuel," Tom said acerbically, not wanting to point out Shaq had stopped them from doing just that, even if it was for good reason.

"That's what I came to tell you," Matt interjected, holding out a map. "There's a police storage facility about twenty kliks away."

Tom studied his son for a moment before taking the map.

"Shaq, turn that thing off before it gives us cancer," Weaver said irritably, gesturing to the globe as Tom glanced over the map, his brow furrowing. As Shaq sullenly obliged, Vivien watched Tom, her heart twisting in her chest, only for Tom to suddenly look up, his gaze crashing into hers, making her hastily look away, Ben and Matt not missing this bit of byplay, the brothers exchanging worried glances.

"You think there'll be fuel there?" Tom asked Matt, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"It's way off the grid," Matt said, "so probably, yeah."

"We should check this out ASAP," Tom said to Weaver.

"Yeah, we should," Weaver agreed. "Good work, Matt," he said, nodding.

"Thanks," Matt beamed, making Vivien's heart twist in her chest even further. Once that smile would have prompted her to ruffle his curls, but not now, since it offended his dignity. He tolerated her babying him but only up to a certain point, Vivien suspecting Tom had told him to.

"The Mason Militias are driving the Espheni forces back," Shaq said, recapturing everyone's attention. "But whatever they are hiding in Fayetteville and your capital may reverse all those advances."

"All the more reason to get on the road quickly," Tom said, folding the map up.

"Well, if we're going to march into the middle of something that nasty," Hal interjected, stepping forwards, "I think we're going to need a lot more humans, as well as guns, weapons and ammunition, all that stuff."

"That's a damn loot," Weaver said, before leaning over the table, smoothing down the map Shaq had left spread out from a previous meeting. "Tom," he said, gesturing him over, "I've been thinking about this Expeditionary Naval Base near Norfolk. It may still be standing."

"And there might be a resistance unit hiding out there," Tom added.

"It's en-route to DC," Hal said. "We could check it out on the way."

"Sounds like a plan," Tom agreed, stowing the map away.

"Maybe you could get your portrait painted of you crossing the Potomac River," Pope drawled from the doorway, startling everyone.

"Is that seriously all you have to contribute?" Weaver said, stepping in front of Tom.

"I'm starting a pool," Pope said, leaning against the wall, "to see who might be next to be sacrificed for the greater good. With a little luck, it might be you, Mason."

"You really want to do this now?" Tom said, pushing Weaver aside, his fists clenching involuntarily.

"Tangle with the Mason Militia?" Pope jeered. "Never." And with that, he walked away.

 _Sunset, home town, America_ _  
_ _Roads I used to run_ _  
_ _These walls used to hold heroes_ _  
_ _Black and white, I'm gone…_


	12. Demons On The Doorstep

**Demons On The Doorstep**

 _'Cause when I signed that paper to give him his share_ _  
_ _Me and Mr. Lucifer were both unaware_ _  
_ _That the soul that I sold him had long belonged to you…_

Vivien came out of the outhouse, shoulders hunched, Ben at her heels, equally morose. After speaking to Shaq, it was only to discover Cochise was broaching the subject of a transplant with his father back on the Volm ship, the knowledge startling Vivien and Ben. But as Shaq had explained there was nothing else they could do but wait to see if General Waschak-cha'ab was willing to proceed with the procedure. Yet Vivien wasn't going to wait. They didn't have time to wait. She decided there and then to go and speak to the General herself, even if it meant trampling on a few Volm traditions on the way. But just as she made this decision, Tom loomed up out of nowhere, startling her to a stop, Ben crashing into her from behind.

"Vivien," Tom pleaded, voice cracking. "I'm sorry" -

\- "You have nothing to say to me," Vivien said coldly, recovering herself, "and I have nothing to say to you" -

Before she could react, Tom suddenly sprang at her, his mouth crushing hers, his beard rough against her skin, her arms almost automatically going up around his neck, fingers digging into his dark hair, forcing her to surrender against her will. Ben turned the other way, cringing. Several long moments passed before they broke apart, Tom leaning his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it."

Vivien bit her lip, suddenly struck with the insane urge to tell him she was having his baby, just to see his reaction. The impulse left her as quickly as it arrived, making Vivien exhale sharply at her momentary madness. When the moment came to tell Tom, it would be in private, and not pinned up against a wall, with her stepson making barfing gestures behind Tom's back, thinking she couldn't see him. "Thank you for that amazing demonstration of regurgitation, Ben," Vivien said primly, confusing Tom. "It was most enlightening."

Ben did a double-take, before flushing hotly. "Sorry," he muttered, trailing his trainer through the dirt.

Tom raised his eyebrows at Vivien, but she just shook her head, Tom then drawing her to him, sliding his hands down her hips. "I'm sorry," he repeated quietly. "I was angry. I didn't mean it."

"I don't want to talk about," Vivien said, drawing back from him, her voice cracking. "Just don't ever say that to me again."

"But you have to stop saying it about yourself," Tom flared up, trying to keep his temper. "Ever since I've known you, you've been deriding yourself" -

\- "But that doesn't give _you_ the right to call me a monster," Vivien snapped, making Ben do another double-take.

"You called Vivien a monster?" Ben said, rounding on his father.

"I was upset," Tom said, his self-control slipping, "I didn't mean it."

"You sure you didn't?" Ben said suspiciously, startling Tom.

"Of course I didn't!" Tom exploded.

Ben studied for his father for a moment. "Okay," Ben simply. "You passed the test."

"What?"

"I was just testing you," Ben said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Tom stared at his son, taken aback.

"Dad!" Matt bellowed, making them all glance up. "We should have been gone ten minutes ago!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," Tom said tiredly, turning to Vivien. "I'll see you later?" he said, shoulders hunching, awaiting her next onslaught.

"I'll walk you out," Vivien said stiffly.

Tom nodded, before turning and leaving, Vivien falling into step beside him, Ben trailing at their heels, brow furrowed. But as they approached the truck, Vivien slid her hand into Tom's, Tom knotting his fingers through hers in turn, the sight making Weaver reluctantly rein in his impatience with Tom's tardiness. As usual, Vivien was the reason behind Tom's fashionably late entrances. _Some things just never changed_ , Weaver observed ruefully.

"Time to go, Tom," Weaver said gruffly.

"I know," Tom said tiredly, reluctantly letting go of Vivien's hand, before hoisting himself up into the truck's cab, leaning out of the window and mouthing, _I love you,_ to her, Vivien mouthing it back, Ben clasping her shoulder. Weaver and Matt climbed into the cab after Tom, followed by one of the other fighters, Ryan, who Vivien vaguely remembered from the Espheni ghetto, Tom then kicking the throttle into gear, his jaw tightening at the prospect ahead.

Vivien watched the truck leave, Matt waving out of the window at them, Vivien halfheartedly waving back, Ben raising his hand in farewell. As ever, both of them knew that this could be the last time they saw the others alive, but they crushed the thought down, holding onto hope instead. They would come back, and they would come back alive. As Ben led her away, Vivien's attention was caught by the sight of Pope, Anthony and some of the other men on the makeshift balcony above, leaning over the rusted rail, watching the world below with dead eyes. She nodded at Pope, making him draw back, the corners of his lips curling downwards in disgust.

"And there goes Mason's hybrid whore," he said under his breath, exhaling sharply.

"And Mason's razorback son," one of the other men added, spitting over the rail.

"I'm not interested in Mason's little boyband," Pope said darkly, "not just now anyways."

Anthony raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Little Vi's the one I've got my eye on," Pope said, making the other men snicker. "I'm gonna hit Mason where it hurts the most, right in the nuts."

At this, Anthony shifted uncomfortably on the spot, making Pope look sharply at him.

"Do you think Tom would have sacrificed his woman?" Pope spat. "That he would have swung that truck by in his own sweet time to save her? Hell no, he wouldn't have. You know as well as I do that Mason would move heaven and earth for that bitch, and to fuck with everyone one else."

Anthony dropped his gaze to the ground, shoulders hunching.

"What about Deni, huh?" Pope pressed, making Anthony flinch. "Mason's got a dozen guys to do the heavy liftin' for him, and what does he do? He gets a little girl in there to do the most dangerous gruntwork."

"She was just a kid," Anthony whispered, "a baby."

"Exactly," Pope said, the other men nodding in agreement, "as long as it's not his kids in the firing line, everyone else's is fair game."

"And she died for what exactly?" Anthony said, as though Pope hadn't spoken. "Another empty victory that's all."

"She died for Mason's Glorious Cause," Pope drawled, "just another body blockin' his way."

"She died for nothing," Anthony said quietly, half turning away from him.

"Well, heads up gentlemen," Pope said, straightening up, "Mason's next sacrifice might be you."


	13. Under The Same Sun

**Under The Same Sun**

"Vivien Mason."

Vivien whirled around, startled, only to be confronted by the imposing sight of Cochise's father, his son beside him, head bowed, hands clasped behind him. He looked oddly penitent, younger, more vulnerable, not the warrior poet she knew. "General Waschak-cha'ab," she said formally, inclining her head, stopping herself just in time from curtseying. The Doctor had drilled the intricacies of Volm etiquette into her head, and she always took care to observe the formalities around General Waschak-cha'ab, conveniently forgetting she'd been more than ready to trample all over Volm traditions to get her own way.

"We will proceed with the operation," Waschak-cha'ab said abruptly. "It better serves the Volm battle plan if my son were to have a longer life-span."

"What about helping your son because you love him?" Vivien said slowly, making Waschak-cha'ab stiffen.

Ben puffed out his cheeks, bracing himself for the inevitable storm about to break. His stepmother and Waschak-cha'ab had a history of butting heads, almost starting an intergalactic war on one occasion.

"My son has been corrupted by that degenerate emotion you call love," Waschak-cha'ab said, spitting his words like bullets, "I will not surrender my honour to the same fate."

Vivien glanced at Cochise, his humble stance only serving to further the rage rising in her. "Love is not a sin," she said tersely, "nor is it a weakness. It is a strength that only serves to make us stronger."

"Love is a human frailty"-

\- "Good thing I'm not human, then" -

"You are half human, and half Xanthe, Vivien Mason," Waschak-cha'ab corrected her, "both enemy and ally all at once. Your species were at war with the Volm many millennia ago, before the Espheni darkened our suns" -

\- "I don't want a history lesson," Vivien said, cutting across him, "I get enough of that from my husband."

"The Fall of Asriele secured your species' defeat," Waschak-cha'ab continued, as though she had not spoken, "forcing you to flee across the stars, only to begin a new war with a new enemy, the Espheni, whilst the Time Lords sat and watched, hoping the two races would wipe each other out, always so loathe to interfere with the lower orders" -

\- "I wasn't there, Waschak-cha'ab!" Vivien exclaimed, incredulous. "I wasn't even born then!"

"But as the Time Lords waited, the Daleks were rising, turning the stars red with blood," Waschak-cha'ab intoned, passing over her incorrect addressing of his person, "and as you fled that fight, you led the Espheni back to us, bringing the Time War in your wake, infecting, infesting, the wounds of war suppurating, festering; the Espheni destroying your already fading empire, then ours" -

\- "Hey, the Xanthe kicked the Espheni's ass," Vivien flared up, "they nearly wiped them out" -

\- "Um, I'm gonna go and tell Anne to get ready," Ben interjected, before beating a hasty retreat, not wanting to take a trip down Memory Lane whilst wondering how he was going to explain to Anne she was going to perform an alien kidney transplant.

"The Xanthe's victories were trifling ones," Waschak-cha'ab said loftily, ignoring Ben's abrupt exit, "triumphs soon overshadowed by defeat. Your race retreated to avoid the same fate suffered by so many at the hands of the Espheni, whole species lost so long ago - the Dornia, the Hrag, the Mnox, the Zty, Uikoi, Tret, Si-ru" -

\- "I think I get the message" -

\- "And we followed your example, evacuating our planet, boarding our Generation ships," Waschak-cha'ab said, talking over her, "the Espheni were not the Xanthe, an enemy that could be easily overcome. The Doctor argued our case in front of the High Council, but by the time the Time Lords turned their attention to the Espheni, the flames of the Time War reduced Gallifrey to ash, and it was too late" -

\- "But the Time War hit the Espheni hard as well," Vivien argued, finally drawn in despite herself, "it forced them to seek refuge on the other side of the universe. But like you said, the Time Lords started hunting them too late. What I don't get is what's hunting the Espheni down _now_. It's not the Time Lords, and if it's not the Volm, what is it?"

General Waschak-cha'ab spread his hands wide, the gesture a motion of sweeping elegance. "I confess I do not know, Vivien Mason," he admitted unwillingly, "it is a conundrum I have failed to conquer."

"But one we will conquer in time," Cochise said, finally speaking up, raising his head.

Vivien nodded, before shifting from one foot to the next, silence falling. "Well, that was an... interesting interlude," she said, making Cochise repress a reluctant smile. "Shall we?" she then said tentatively, glancing at Waschak-cha'ab.

"We shall," he said stiffly, allowing her to lead the way.

 _My yearn oughta turn these things_ _  
_ _Turn these things around_ _  
_ _I learned from you_ _  
_ _Oh I made these plans, made this plans_ _  
_ _With you around, dear…_


	14. See The Sky Is No Man's Land

**See The Sky Is No Man's Land**

"Go on ahead," Vivien said to Cochise and his father, catching sight of trouble brewing. "I'll only be a moment."

"I do not think that would be a logical course of action to take, Vivien Mason," Cochise said warningly, only for her to completely disregard his words, stalking off, making Cochise shake his head, before gesturing for his father to follow him, Waschak-cha'ab inclining his head regally before striding after his son.

"Every last one of you is being led to the slaughter," Anthony was saying earnestly, laying his hand on a man's shoulder, as if he was an evangelist saving sinners, "but things are changing. We're going to take back this world, not for the Masons, but for ourselves" -

"Hey!" Vivien called, coming over, making the men exchange glances, a silent message being telegraphed between them. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm telling the truth," Anthony said coldly, "I think that's the least you owe these people, don't you?"

Vivien just stared at him, the men silently forming a circle around her, weapons half raised.

"Nice of you to join the party, Mrs. Mason," Pope drawled, making her turn around, "usually you're hidin' behind the Brady Bunch."

Vivien bit back a bitter rejoinder, staying silent instead, refusing to take the bait.

"So, did you cook me a nice casserole, Red-Coat?" Pope taunted, taking a step forwards. "Left it on my doorstep with a condolence card, huh?"

"Hey, Tom fucked up," Vivien snapped, jabbing her finger at him, "and he knows he's fucked up" -

\- "What, and his bitter regret makes it all better?" Pope said, spreading his hands wide. "Mason made a boo-boo, big deal?"

"I didn't mean it like that" -

"What, you need a translator now, sweetheart?" Pope said, circling her. "Martian your mothertongue, yeah?"

"Fuck you," Vivien spat, making to leave, the men suddenly converging on her, making her take a step back.

"Hold your horses, homeboys," Pope admonished, "this one's mine."

They moved back, not breaking the circle, their weapons still half raised.

"Now where were we?" Pope pretended to ponder. "Yeah, we were talkin' about how your whoreson of a husband slaughtered my Sara" -

\- "I'm sorry, John," Vivien said quietly, her voice cracking, "I'm sorry you lost Sara" -

\- "Don't you dare say her name," Pope hissed, advancing on her, "don't you ever dare" -

\- "Or what?" Vivien snapped, losing her temper. "You'll do what?"

Pope just drew back from her, a malicious grin playing on his lips. "You remember Lourdes, Red-Coat?" he said quietly. "Sweet lil Lourdes, cut down by that half breed brat of yours" -

Vivien slapped him, the sound ringing round the ruins.

" _Ow_ ," Pope drawled, dramatically clutching his cheek, making the men snicker.

Vivien stood there, fighting the tears. "Say what you want about me," she said from between gritted teeth, "but don't you dare drag my daughter into this."

Pope studied her, taking in the hair that was too black, the eyes that were too blue, her face inhumanly pale. "Once you had guts, little Vi," he said, sounding almost disappointed in her, "fuckin' balls of steel. Then you hitched your wagon to Mason's star, and tick, tick boom, that girl was gone - you were too busy playin' Stepford Wives with your sugar daddy for anythin' else. And now, nothin's changed. All you still see is Mason, and nothin' but Mason. I watch you, Red-Coat, watchin' him, him watchin' you, like the rest of the world doesn't exist" -

\- "Look, I don't have the time for your bullshit, John" -

\- "Stop calling me that!" Pope exploded, startling her. "You don't have the right to call me that!"

Vivien stared at him, stunned. But before she could say or do anything else, Ben was suddenly there, putting himself between Pope and Vivien, practically forehead to forehead with the former, his grey eyes, Rebecca's eyes, burning like blue fire. "Ben," Vivien protested, grabbing his arm, trying and failing to pull him back, "don't do your Corleone routine right now" -

"Yeah, you're interrupting the gangbang," Pope began, only for Ben's fist to connect with his face, knocking him down.

"If I see you within three feet of my stepmother again, you're history, do you understand?" Ben hissed, looming over Pope, the latter just lying there, a sneer spreading across his lips. "You keep away from her and hers, or I won't be responsible for the consequences of my actions."

"Spoken like a true Mason," Pope drawled, dragging himself upright, "all you need is a lectern and you're ready to rock."

Ben just shot him a contemptuous look at him before hauling Vivien away, ignoring her protests. The men gathered around Pope as he staggered to his feet, his sneer becoming replaced by a snarl, Anthony at his elbow, his face a blank mask. "Want me to go and teach Ben Mason a lesson?" Anthony said in an undertone to Pope.

"No, that'll be my pleasure," Pope said, straightening his leather jacket, "and mine only."

 _See the sky is no man's land_ _  
_ _A darkened plume to stay_ _  
_ _Hope here needs a humble hand_ _  
_ _Not a fox found in your place…_


	15. Now We're Drowning

**Now We're Drowning**

"So he can just anaesthetize himself?" Ben said sceptically, watching as Vivien scrubbed up.

"Yes," Cochise said, leaning against the operating table, "he has... he has put himself into stasis so he can immediately start healing after the procedure." He picked up a piece of Volm tech Vivien had never been able to understand, a sort of space version of the humble iPad, before flipping a series of switches, sending sparks of light shooting across its screen. "The organ that reconnects my father's life-force," he said, exhaling sharply, the effort of even moving beginning to exhaust him again, "has... has been slowed for the transplant."

"He can slow his own heart as well?" Ben said in disbelief.

"It will... return to its normal function after... he has regained consciousness," Cochise explained, wincing now.

"Are you okay, Cochise?" Anne asked anxiously, noting the way he was now clutching his side.

"I am..." Before he could frame the rest of his reply, he slumped forwards, Anne and Ben rushing forwards to catch him, hauling him upright with great difficulty. "I am fine, Anne Glass and Ben Mason," he muttered, eyes rolling, "I am A-OK."

"No, you're not," Vivien said smartly, coming up the side of him. "Lay him down, lads."

"Lads?" Anne queried, raising an ironic eyebrow.

"There is no need to draw attention to my masculinity," Cochise said testily, annoyance temporarily reviving him.

"What, as opposed to your femininity?" Vivien retorted.

"It is an unfortunate defect in my biological make-up that my hips are not wide enough for childbearing," Cochise said with a heavy sigh, startling everyone.

"What?" Vivien said, suddenly paranoid, thinking Cochise was indirectly trying to expose her pregnancy as revenge for her indirect insult.

"According to the strict strictures of Volm culture, it is a most important duty to provide your mate with many offspring," Cochise said tiredly, wondering as always why he got caught up in these pointless conversations with Vivien, particularly on the most inappropriate of occasions, like now. "Therefore, due to my reproductive deficiency, I am condemned to a solitary existence" –

\- "Just lie him down," Vivien said to Ben, cutting Cochise off.

"I am not ready to recline, Vivien Mason," Cochise rasped, "I still have to explain the procedure."

"Well, hurry up and explain it," Vivien retorted.

Cochise glared at her in almost slow motion. "This will cut through our exo-skeletal sheathe," Cochise then said hoarsely, picking up a Volm laser, "it can deliver up to 180 joules of energy with each pulse - you will need it to perform the incision." At this, he handed the laser to Anne, who took it with some trepidation.

"Wouldn't it be safer if you made the incision?" Anne said, eying the laser with something akin to alarm.

"I'm afraid my eye-sight and co-ordination have begun to falter," Cochise said, barely able to speak now, "but I shall assist."

Anne nodded, the others watching as she then began to cut open Waschak-cha'ab's grey flesh, Vivien turning away, her stomach churning.

"Good," Cochise breathed, "now we are ready."

"I can proceed?" Anne said, all but asking for extra assurance. When Ben had sprung this particular surprise on her, she hadn't faltered for a moment, but she still liked to make sure, especially when lives were on the line, alien or not.

Cochise nodded, flinching with the movement.

Taking a deep breath, Anne then extracted Waschak-cha'ab's kidney, holding it aloft so Cochise could appraise it.

"Good," he repeated, "it is healthy."

"Wait," Vivien said, leaning over, brow furrowing. "The incision - it's closed!"

"His body has already begun to heal itself," Cochise explained tiredly, Vivien's sheer immaturity and ignorance beginning to get on his last nerve, "as you have already observed" - He suddenly stumbled backwards, almost hitting the proverbial deck, Ben catching him before he could.

"Ben, get him on that gurney," Anne ordered, carefully placing the kidney on a metal dish, before just as carefully carrying it over to where Cochise now lay, his eyelids fluttering oddly, his long limbs twitching threateningly. "You're going to be okay," Anne soothed, motioning for Vivien to pass her the laser, "everything's under control."

"I have to go into stasis," Cochise gasped, "all you have to do is reverse the procedure."

"Got it," Anne said, forcing herself to smile at him.

Cochise studied her face for a moment, something in her smile satisfying him, and his eyes finally closed, his body falling still. Vivien just stood there, feeling utterly helpless, Ben taking a step back.

"Vivien," Anne snapped, startling her back to life, "I need you on stand-by. Be ready to hand me that dish."

Vivien sprang forwards, forcing herself to focus, Ben retreating to the far wall. Between them both, Anne successfully removed and replaced Cochise's failing kidney, Vivien disposing of it with her face averted, feeling her stomach start to heave again, Anne giving her an odd glance, like she was trying to unravel a riddle. But as Waschak-cha'ab stirred, Anne's attention was immediately diverted, rushing over to him instead, Ben hard on her heels.

"General Waschak-cha'ab?" Anne said, shaking him gently by the shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I am... tolerable," Waschak-cha'ab said with some difficulty, reluctantly allowing Ben to help him up, a transgression he thought expedient to overlook.

"Just tolerable?" Vivien teased, coming over, hiding her tension with humour. "Not on top of the world? Like you've just won the lottery?"

Waschak-cha'ab just glared at her, the gesture surprisingly human. With great dignity, he got off the gurney, dismissing Anne's suggestion he should rest with a regal wave of his hand. With slow shuffling steps, he made his way over to Cochise's side, studying his son's face almost impatiently. As if on cue, Cochise's eyes flickered open, Waschak-cha'ab exhaling sharply, relief starkly written over his ridged features, his obvious emotion surprising Vivien. In all the time she'd known Waschak-cha'ab, she'd only seen him treat Cochise as a soldier under his command, and not his son, but for all his assertions to the contrary, Waschak-cha'ab could, and did love.

"Father?" Cochise whispered, almost disbelieving.

"I am here... _son_ ," Waschak-cha'ab said quietly, taking Cochise's hand.

"Aww, you're tuggin' on my heart-strings, man," Pope complained from the doorway, making Vivien whirl around, her black brows drawing together.

"Hey, you can't come in here!" Anne exclaimed, stepping forwards, forcing Ben back.

"Yeah, I can, sweetheart," Pope drawled, casually drawing out his gun. "Watch me."

 _Scowling like the sunshine, set on Sarasota_ _  
_ _Happy like a twister over Oklahoma_ _  
_ _Clear as Penny Mason lying in a coma_ _  
_ _This is our feeling, all my hurt is over…_


End file.
